


Forget It

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 19:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Geno appears on a snowy curb side and cannot remember anything that has happened to him. Reaper takes him in.Who hurt Geno? Where did he come from? Why can't he remember anything? And why does Reaper find Geno so damn cute?Join me on this stupid story to uncover some backstories and emotions that all of us would rather avoid. Plus, afterdeath fluff at some point.





	Forget It

Geno glitched into existence on a curb. In a panic. A cough that turned into a choking harsh sob hurt his chest, his whirling mind hardly noting his surroundings. Snow. It was snowy, cold hail stinging where it hit his shaking body. His head hurt so bad, what the hell happened to make his head hurt this bad? His body felt numb and he was having trouble breathing, his inhales coming short and rapid. He tried to calm, tried to gather any sort of knowledge of where he was.   
His vision consisted of a dirty white and a fading black, flashes, red, green, blue, yellow, colours puddling together in his blurry vision. Vision..- he hadn't realized his eyes were open. What was he seeing- where was he? He blinked, trying, yet in vain, to clear his eyesight. The colours started swirling as the side Geno's head throbbed in pain, making Geno feel nauseous, so he shut his eyes tightly. Blocking out as much awareness as possible seemed like a good idea. He didn't remember anything, his body was numb, his sight absolutely fucked, he could hardly hear anything over the wind. Or was someone screaming? His ears were ringing, he couldn't tell.   
Hopelessness caught up to him all at once, a choked sob wracked his body. His numb fingers scratching weakly at his arms in some sort of desperate attempt to bring feeling to his body. His knuckles started stinging as the feeling crept back into them at a aching snails pace, hands dropping to the dirty slush covering the freezing cobblestone road. There was hail that was pelleting him sparsely, his body twitching whenever a piece of ice hit his face, the feeling lingering and stinging. The seat of his trousers were wet from the slush and ice at the curb, all of his clothes sticking to him from dampness. So he just sat. It was all too much happening, too many spots hurting, his head couldn't process it all due to the unrelenting persisting pain that refused to let up. So, he sat.   
...  
And sat.   
And the skeleton sat until he passed out into a swallowing dark.   
...  
It was warm. 

 

Reaper's cloak hem was getting wet from the slushy snow on the cobblestone. Ugh. He'd have to dry it when he got home. And, he was out in a blizzard. Which didn't matter too much to him, a nice… er.. stroll… was all he needed. It was quiet- other then the snow and wind making loud gusts. He was cold, but when was he not cold? The winds whipped his dark cloak around, and he had long given up trying to keep his hood on. He was probably quite a scary sight right now, looking like… well, death.  
He wasn't too too far from his destination- don't ask him where he was coming from, you won't get a straight answer. He was just going home, finally. Some would consider it a mansion. The fire in his study was probably already going, he pondered, feeling a bit less tired at the promise of a warm place to unwind. The fire, of course, set by his butler. She was good at her job, to say the least. Reaper looked to the side, watching the snow blow across the cobblestone road with little interest. Same buildings with the darkened windows, same dim lamp posts.   
A few snow drifts on the sides of the road.. ah, someone lost their scarf, what a shame. The red scarf stood out against the snow on the other side of the street, Reaper's gaze holding on it as he walked. And really, thank god he did look at it, because now that he focused on it.. It's a person. It's not just a scarf, it's a person wearing a scarf. On the side of the road in a blizzard-?  
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his walking stuttering to a stop. He now squinted through the bothersome snow that did not bother him before, trying to see the figure more clearly. When the person didn't move after a few beats, he took a step towards them, and before he knew it he was jogging hurriedly across the road. Reaper even almost tripped on the way over. He bent down a bit, a hand outstretched ever so slightly as he noticed they were shivering quite violently. They were small and seemed young.   
“Hey- are you…” His voice faded off as he squatted down in front of them, reaching a hand out to touch his trembling shoulder. This kid was unconscious- fuck, how long had he been here? But he was alive. Reaper didn't get any response to his touch or voice. He stood, wringing his hands together as he tried to think what to do. Bring them home, he supposed. Letting out a breath to calm himself, Reaper unclasped the collar of his cloak, taking it off and bringing it around the other's body, squatting down again to pick up the trembling figure with an arm under their arms and one under their knees. Reaper was surprised at how light he was, almost concerned, wrapping the cloak around him more securely. Were they a child?   
“I’m gonna.. take you home darlin’, okay? You.. are gonna be okay, don’t worry..” He murmured, not expecting a reply. Maybe they could hear him. Or.. maybe it was just to reassure himself. His soul was beating hard as he walked back across the road, mind now set on getting home as soon as possible with no dillydallying. He walked- well, more of a speed walk- down the sidewalk once he got on the right side of the street.   
What would he do when he even got home? Call for the doctor? It was who knows how late at night, how would he even get a hold of the doctor at this time? He supposed he'd get the maid to help him get him into some warm clothes, maybe after warming up a bit he'll regain consciousness. Reaper peeked down at the large bundle in his arms, and felt a small rush of relief at how they stirred slightly, thankful they were.. well, alive still. Able to move. He didn't know how long he was even out there though, could his soul have been affected by the cold?   
Reaper almost slipped on a patch of ice, which made him snap out of his thoughts and look up to see his home. Turning into the walkway, he swept his gaze over the mansion. The house was absolutely grand, archways and windows and a large garden out back, hedges piled with snow along the wide walkway, and Reaper was a proud owner of the inherited building and land. But there was no time to admire it, or even see it well, as the snow made it hard to even see across the road. The yellow lit windows showed up though, giving Reaper a sense of home and security in this cold blizzard.

 

He quickly got to the dark wood doors, not even having to raise a hand to knock at when it was opened for him, his bubbly butler ushering him in as she closed to door behind him as soon as he stepped in completely, about to take his cloak to dry when she noticed the figure in his arms.  
“God- what- who…” She stuttered, pushing her poofy blond hair back out of her face as she leaned in to see them, fading off her questions when Reaper pulled down the scarf slightly to show the skeleton's face. Reaper had already noticed the.. melted looking eye socket. Freta had not, and covered hee mouth in mortification.   
“The hell, sir.” She whispered, taking her hand away from her mouth to reach out and touch a finger to the guys cheek.   
“They're alive..?” She pondered, seeming surprised. As if Reaper had been the one to cause the mangled eye. She has right to think so.  
“I found them. Didn't do anything to them.” Reaper said casually- as if this was not heavily concerning. “Wanna help wash ‘em up?” He asked, stepping from the entrance through the hallway, lined with paintings, a long carpet on the dark wooden floor being tracked with snow from the boots that Reaper did not bother taking off. “Close the door, please.” Reaper reminded as he went off into the house, probably upstairs to a guest bathroom.   
“Yes, sorry!” The woman said, shutting the door instead of standing there in shock like she had been. Wasn't everyday Reaper brought home a person off the street. God, her boss was quite a character. She hurried after him, following him up the large staircase and into the bathroom across from his master bedroom. Hm. He could have used a different bathroom then his own.  
“So. A kid?” She asked curiously as she rolled up her sleeves, going over to the elegant yet large bathtub and turning on the taps, starting to run a warm bath.   
“Maybe..? I dunno. They're small..” He murmered, taking a seat on the side of the tub and starting to gently take his cloak off from around them. Fuck, fuck fuck, why hadn't they realized this guy was bleeding-? Blood was crusted and still seeping from a wound in their chest, and blood dripping from their mouth. But he didn't have time to think about it, as the bundle in their arms stirred, eyelid fluttering and Reaper's soul fluttered with it, breath catching in his throat. 

 

The sound of running water was the first thing he heard. Was he dead? Was there some sort of heavenly waterfall in the afterlife? Ugh- no- his head pounded and his body ached, why would he still be hurt in heaven? He stayed with his eyes closed as long as he could bear, which wasn't long because curiosity and worry built up until he tried to open up his eyes, feeling scared at how it was difficult because of how sore they felt. But he managed after a moment, but felt a sinking feeling in his non-existent gut at how he could only see blurry shapes and no details. Where… where was he..? He lifted his hands to his eyes and tried to sit up, how long had he been out?  
“Hey-” Reaper started, having to hold onto Geno as he froze when Reaper spoke, and nearly fell out of their arms at how close his voice was. Geno was shivering, from how cold and numb he felt despite the warm… house..? he was in.   
“W-...what- wha-what the h-hell-” Geno hissed, pressing his hands against his closed eyes, sounding pained. It made Reaper grin slightly, but with worry. This poor guy. “Where-.. who are y-..you-” He stuttered, not knowing whether to try and get away from the person or to trust them or try to stay close because holy fuck he was freezing and everything hurt.   
“Reaper, I'm Reaper. Freta is here too.” He paused, taking a hand and putting it on Geno's hand over his eye, but took it off when they flinched as if he had struck them.   
“I-” Geno started, voice cracking and breaking off into a shaky breath.  
“Can you see?” Reaper murmered quietly, trying to speak softly and get the guy to… calm down. His breathing was heavy and he sounded very panicky. It was understandable.. Geno was silent before he started shaking harder and pressed himself up against Reaper's shoulder as tears started rolling down his cheeks, letting out a choked and hardly let our sob, trembling from trying to do anything but cry.   
“No..-” He managed to croak out, too tired and scared and confused to care about how he was sobbing on this stranger and whoever the hell Freta was. Reaper was shushing him soothingly and patting his back, moving his arms to hug him despite Geno's dirty clothing and tears. He obviously needed it.  
“It's fine, uh, you're gonna be fine.. we're running you a nice bath, that's what Freta is doing, you're here in my home.. do you know you were out in the snow storm? Why were you out there? What's your deal, kid? Haha...” Reaper spoke quick and softly, but the stressed tone in his voice was clear he didn't know what to do or how to help. Just.. trying to comfort the skeleton and make him stop crying because tears were pricking the corners of his own eyes from just hearing the other cry. He couldn't handle crying people.   
Geno didn't answer, just kept his eyes shut right and face pressed against Reaper's shoulder, shaking and trying to keep his quiet sobs quieter. Where was he? Yes, in this Reaper dude's house, but where was that? Did he live here? Where was he before, before he got here, before being out in the snow? Too many questions, questions he couldn't remember the answers to.  
“Deep breaths, love..” Reaper whispered to him, rubbing his back slowly. He wanted to scream at him to calm down and stop crying. Just stop. You're okay. Calm down. Stop, stop stop stopstopitstopitstopitstopstopsto-   
“Would you like me to take him?” Freta spoke up and snapped Reaper from his frustrated thoughts when she bent back up from where she had been setting up the bath, holding out her arms towards Geno and Reaper. Reaper blinked away his own tears and gave a small nod and Freta came to pick up the crying boy in her much more motherly and probably more comforting arms. Reaper was not sure whether to feel bad for not staying around to help or glad to leave when he left the bathroom, disappearing into his room without another word.   
Freta watched where he left for a moment before started to speak quietly to the boy and get him to calm down a bit as she gently peeled damp cold clothes from him, letting him sit on the wide edge of the bathtub. Geno sat with shaking breath and body, eyes opening at some point to see if he could.. see. He could not. After a while of zoning out and mindlessly crying, he was lifted into a warm bath and started sobbing again at how nice it felt. Freta couldn't help but give a small worried look at him at how hysterically unstable and ungrounded he was right now.  
Geno decided he really liked baths.   
...  
That's all he could process right now.

 

Stats:  
Geno: *he likes baths.   
Reaper: *seems curiously caring.  
Freta: *Seems worried…  
*Likes clean carpets.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is pretty darn awful, but I tried I suppose. I hope you enjoy it so far! I'd appreciate any feedback or comments if y'all don't mind! Tysm.


End file.
